A Zombie On My Lawn
by Magical Shovel
Summary: On your average spring day, a zombie appears on Shovel's lawn. It is up to Shovel and Beat to save the day! They need to protect their brains from the living dead. Cameo appearance made by Maestro.


A Zombie On My Lawn

**Disclaimer: **I obviously don't own Plants vs. Zombies. That game belongs to its creators. Pogo, I believe. I also don't own Resident Evil. That belongs to Capcom and its creators. "Still Alive" is from Portal, which I don't own. What else? Oh, yeah. I own nothing here. This was written for fun and friends. There was no profit, only an emotional gain. c:

**A/N:** This is the product of a snow day. Also, this piece is dedicated to my besties, Maestro and Beat. Pure crack. That is all. 8D

* * *

Moans filled the crisp, spring air. The sun shined bright. Its luminescent rays tinted the lush grass below. Worn leather shoes shuffled across the front lawn. Tattered clothing hung off of a thin being. It's grayish-green arms were outstretched as it continued to shamble towards the cozy, quaint home. Oddly enough, an orange device was cast upon its head like a crown of sorts. This was no helmet. It was a road cone.

The year was 2013. So, the end of the world ordeal was a little delayed, if anything.

Magical Shovel tore her glued gaze away from the computer screen with a gasp. She had just come home from college seeing as how this was the future. Her eyes widened as she approached her open window. The fresh air snuck into her room, clearing out the peculiar teenaged scent. Clamping her pale hands on her cheeks, she let out another gasp for a dramatic effect. All of her years as a fan girl had finally paid off! It was a live zombie! She cautiously glanced around, briefly wondering if Umbrella was lurking somewhere nearby… With a shrug, she turned to her friend, Beat.

Beat was her stage name, her claim to fame since she was a successful theatre major with a minor in programming. Shovel never really knew how those two went together, but they did. Beat was a videogame prodigy and had helped to create several franchises featuring opera and stage plays. As for Shovel, she was aspiring to someday join the FBI. Life seemed to be working out for them. Now that the story was off track, one of the main characters decided to speak. Shovel glanced at her friend and said, "There's a zombie on my lawn."

"A zombie…?" Beat was skeptical when it came to zombies. She wasn't a believer, but Shovel knew! She knew that this would happen! Actually, the night before the blond had been reading an abundance of conspiracy theories all connecting back to the Illuminati. The brunette, Beat, arched a brow as she hopped off of Shovel's bed. She took her time, approaching the window. She naturally assumed that MS overdosed on pop rocks and energy drinks yet again. Luckily enough, that wasn't the case. The blond only did that when finals were approaching. Beat's brown gaze widened in shock, "What is this? I don't even-"

No one understands. They're zombies. They're not meant to make sense.

"I think we should call Maestro. He'd totally be into this, bring a sled and everything," Shovel retorted with a shrug.

"Um, 'kay…" Beat trailed off.

However, Maestro never did get that call… Because he was already killing zombies with his sled of mass destruction.

The duo set off down the stairs in unison. Shovel called out to her mother whom had been diligently working, "Mom! There's a zombie on our lawn! I'm gonna go plant some zombie-attacking plants to kill them." Shovel's mother simply shrugged. The girl had an overactive imagination, what else was there to possibly say?

"Alright, Honey. Have fun and make sure the cops don't have to bring you home."

The cops were probably zombies by now. Just saying.

" 'Kay, Mom! We'll be in the front lawn if you need us."

There were three brains for the zombies to eat. Shovel's, her mother's, and Beat's. If the zombies succeed, they would become zombies as well. There's an unwritten code, a sort of logic, that applies to zombies. That being said, they gathered bags of soil, shovels, rakes, and pots. Shovel and Beat worked without saying a word to each other. They had to hurry before the cone head zombie would attack! The pots were set in uniform rows, filled to the rim with fertilized soil. Shovel paused, smacking herself on the forehead. How could they forget the seeds! Unfortunately, Shovel didn't run to Walgreen's to pick up some seeds for the garden this year… She had assumed that her mother would eventually.

"Could've used a V8," Beat snickered.

Shovel rolled her eyes, "Well, I forgot to buy the seeds. Now, what? I'm not that magical, you know. I'm only magical when it comes to innovative slash and delicious crack fics!"

You all knew that to be the truth.

Before Beat could respond, a rotund man stepped out of his van. No, he did not have candy. He did, however, have seeds. A plethora of them, in fact. Shovel nearly squee'd, rushing around the zombie and towards the strange, bearded man whom wore a metal pot upon his head. Alas, the zombie was far too slow to response and stood there, momentarily confused. It swayed a bit as any drunkard would. It began to shuffle mindlessly towards Beat. The brunette picked up a rake, throwing it in front of the zombie. It's soulless eyes widened in shock as the rake attacked its face like a can of mace. Beat did a power pose.

Sadly, she didn't level up.

Meanwhile, Shovel was attempting to converse with the brown-haired male. He kept babbling nonsense to the point of confusion. On the brink of tears, MS began to flail. That, too, didn't work. Finally, the blond kicked the van and exclaimed, "Give me your plants!" The man introduced himself as Crazy Dave and gave a brief introduction. Shovel already knew this by heart. She had played the game on a repetitive basis.

"And guess what?" Crazy Dave asked.

"What," Shovel bluntly said. She wasn't even going to bother to ask.

"I'm CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAZY."

She snorted and ran away with the packages. Music began to play to signify that there was a time skip. The seeds quickly grew into sunflowers, walnuts, garlic, and peashooters. Beat blinked as Shovel frantically watered the plants. She knew a wave would be approaching, complete with a red flag. It was a shame the flag was never white. Zombies were stubborn creatures, but how come they only dared to approach _one_ house?

The two could never fathom an answer.

"So…" Beat drawled, "Why did that zombie have a cone on it's head?"

"…I really don't know."

It was then that they began to question the zombies' fashion sense. They must have been Lady Gaga's little monsters. Shovel could care less. Her music was enjoyable and _MS_ wasn't a mindless zombie.

"Cool story, Bro," Beat murmured.

As the peashooters began to attack the hoard of zombies, Shovel pulled out too chairs in front of the door. She also had a caliber in case the plants didn't succeed in the end. She came prepared. Girl knew how to handle an apocalypse or two. MS folded her arms in front of her chest and bluntly stared at the undead. They were getting bored. Shovel began to crave tea… And blood. Beat stared at the zombies for quite some time. It was getting mindless like a game of Tetris. Sighing, they turned to face each other. It was time to poke a little fun.

"Hey, Shovel. Is that a potato?"

"No, Beat. That's a walnut? Can't you tell?" Shovel squinted at the defense mechanism, "Actually, it does kind of look like a potato…"

Beat smirked. She knew she had won. Somewhere in the center of the earth, the creators of this game were shaking their fists at her. Shovel shrugged and pointed at the zombie with a bucket, "There's a bucket on his head. Lolz." Because this wouldn't be crack without some sort of meme or emote. They began to play a game of Uno. Beat was developing a winning streak. Shovel was not amused. She pulled out the .44 caliber and shot the deck, screaming profanities for all to hear.

"Sore loser!"

"No."

"Yes."

"Nuh-uh."

"Still alive."

"…What?"

Beat had been playing too many videogames and it was starting to show. Then again, the same applied for Shovel. They were hipsters, what more could you expect? It was then that MS' mindless playing of Resident Evil began to kick in. She narrowed her gaze, biting her lower lip. "We need a grenade," she said as bluntly as possible. Beat was a little freaked out. Shovel _never_ acted so bloodthirsty before. Shooting zombies on a television screen was the only way for her to exact her pent up rage.

"We don't have any of those."

"FFFFFT. Why not?"

"Because this is a game rated for children and above."

"We're above. Like Gods! Ahahahahaha!" Yes, Shovel had a God complex.

"You're scaring me, Shovel."

"Sorry."

"It's okay, I forgive you."

The brunette didn't _really _forgive Shovel, though. Deep in the crevices of her mind, she doubted Shovel's actions. Secretly, MS was a cold-hearted killer even if she did want to become a profiler. Beat turned to stare at the undead. So far, they pretty much sucked. They failed miserably. Their littered remains were hung askew upon the lawn whilst Shovel refrained from giggling. Beat always had been the more rational one between the two.

All of the sudden, Maestro came crashing through on his sled. He hadn't been able to use it during the winter seeing as how he was a college freshman and it was brutal out there. To make up for it, the zombies' blood was his snow. Being an ingenious writer, Maestro would later create a roleplay off of his adventure. Shovel would eventually join it and the name of her character would be a spin off of Rooey. Rooey would also have a companion that would be a flaming mole.

"Hey, Maestro!" They exclaimed in unison.

Maestro struck a power pose and blasted his techno or rave music (Shovel could never be sure of which) before sledding off into the distance.

"That's kind of awesome," Shovel said.

"I know, right? …Now, how about some boss fights!" Beat was getting a tad trigger happy. You can't have a game _without_ a boss fight. That was just inhumane. Shovel blinked, scratching her head. There usually was a boss… But he didn't come until they were on the rooftop. There was no way that MS would get on the roof. She would fall to her death if she did. She just wasn't ready for that.

"No idea," Shovel mumbled. The skepticism lingered in her voice.

Truth be told, they were lucky. The boss fight occurred at some other house. They weren't alone, yet they weren't aware of it. Instead, they would pull out their calibers and shoot zombies in suits. Although their plants were in ruins, they had managed to save the lawn, house, and Shovel's unaware mother in the process. In other words? It was a typical and generic videogame ending. Beat wasn't satisfied. She would end up creating her own spin-off, but Shovel was okay with that. Why? Because a sunflower was serenading her and the zombies were performing "Thriller". What could be better than that!

Oh, yes. The zombies were gone and no longer on her lawn.

Or were they...?


End file.
